Empty Spaces
by SamanthaMae
Summary: After a few too many drinks, Sodapop walks Steve home, offering a shoulder to lean on. *oneshot*


**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters you recognize in this story.

A/N: I thought I'd try writing this to shake off my writer's-block. _Any_ kind of reviews are welcome, especially ones that tell me how I can improve my writing.

_**Empty Spaces**_

He drained _another_ shot. Two-Bit hollered and laughed, pouring him some more. Evie was smiling, but she looked bothered. She had a right to be, really. Joyce, who was sitting on Two-Bit's lap, was laughing too.

Sodapop felt himself smirk. He had seen Steve when he drank too much, and it normally wasn't a happy time. Evie seemed to know that, but Two-Bit sure as hell didn't. He kept overflowing Steve's glass, claiming he'd give Steve a dollar if he could drink it all at once.

Joyce was giggling at everything, so maybe she had drank a little, too.

"Steve, you ready to go?" Evie asked sheepishly.

Steve shook his head. "One more."

"C'mon," she complained, grabbing onto his arm. "I'm tired, an' it's gettin' late."

"So why don't _you_ go home?" he snapped, and Sodapop rolled his eyes.

Evie raised an eyebrow. "I think you had enough to drink – don't you?"

"Hey, why don't you fuck off?"

She seemed shocked. Sodapop sighed and felt sympathy for her. She was probably around him enough to know what would happen if you argued with him while he was drunk, but she continued to press her luck.

"Y'know, Stevie, maybe I will go home."

He didn't reply and took a small sip from the bottle. Evie smiled.

"Maybe I'll go home with a little someone named Dennis McCarthy..."

Sodapop saw Steve sneer, but he didn't say anything. Evie groaned and stood up, walking out of Buck's bar with an angry look on her face. Sodapop had no idea why they were _still_ together – they were both such short-tempered people.

Two-Bit was still laughing, completely oblivious to what had just happened. Sodapop decided he was too hung up on Joyce. She was an all right looking girl, after all.

Steve slowly stood up, wobbled around a bit, and left the bar. He was probably going to continue the argument with Evie.

A few seconds later, Sodapop looked out the window. He could see Evie standing on the parking lot, and then when he walked away he saw Steve walk after her.

He left the bar too, chasing after Steve and wondering how to calm him down.

"Can you take him home?" Evie called up to him.

Sodapop nodded. "Yeah. You don't got a car, do you?"

She shook her head. "I can hitch a ride. I'm real sorry Carol couldn't come, too."

Sodapop smirked. He knew Carol was busy at home, taking care of her mother. He pondered going over to visit her, but he remembered it was past midnight.

He approached Steve and helped him stand up straight. "Take it easy," he said to Evie.

She smiled and went her separate way.

"C'mon, buddy. Let's get you home."

Steve drowsily put his arm around Sodapop's shoulders. "I don't wanna go home. How 'bout I go over to your place? Go there for the night?"

"That ain't gonna happen. Dar will probably give you a lecture 'bout drinkin'."

"Bull_shit_, he drinks all the time."

They walked onto the sidewalk wordlessly, and Sodapop analyzed how to get to Steve's quickly.

"I don't wanna go home, Soda. The old man's probably drinkin' again."

"He'd be passed out by now."

"Yeah, but Maggie's there. I don't want her thinkin' ... thinkin' I do this all the time, you know? She don't need to know that I go to bars all night and drink till my mind's blank, bein' like..."

"Like the old man?"

Steve snorted and didn't reply.

Sodapop could see St. Louis Avenue from the distance, and he wondered if Darry would be mad if Steve was over. It was a little late, sure, but there was probably no way Steve would go near his own house.

"Know what he said to me the other day?" Steve asked.

"Huh?"

"The old man. Know what he said?"

Soda shrugged. "What?"

"He told me I'm wastin' my life away. Told me I ain't workin' hard enough to keep up with him." He shook his head. "Jesus Christ, Soda, what does he want from me? Maybe I _should_ start workin' more. I'm only getting twenty hours at the DX. ThinkI should start full-time once school's over?"

"Steve, it's your senior year. You're supposed to be goin' out with your friends."

His nose twitched. "Yeah, but he said..."

"He said you're wasting your life, but you ain't doin' nothin' wrong. C'mon, man, you're working part-time, you're goin' to school right now, you've got a steady girlfriend, and you're makin' time for your friends."

"Well, yeah, I guess."

They started walking in silence. Sodapop was finding difficult to have all of Steve's weight on his shoulders, so he put an arm around Steve's back.

"You'll be all right, buddy."

"Fuck, Soda, why does it have to be so hard?"

Sodapop was startled by his outburst, so he didn't reply.

"Why does he always push me away and disapprove everything I fucking do? I'm trying so hard to get him to just tell me once that he's proud of me, but he just ... he just don't care."

"I know."

"An' it's worse that he goes out drinkin' every night, leavin' me to take care'a Maggie. It ain't fair, you know?"

Sodapop nodded.

"The worst thing I could do right now is show up there, and for Maggie to see me like this. _I'm_ supposed to be the tough one here, Soda, _I'm_ supposed to make sure everything's goin' okay."

"Says who?"

He shrugged.

"Steve, no one's expectin' you to be perfect."

"Seems like the old man is."

"He ain't. I can tell it. He just has a hard time lettin' people in, tellin' them he's proud of 'em."

"Wouldn't kill him to say it."

Sodapop wiped the sweat off his forehead. The ending of May was usually a warm time of year. "I know."

"Your old man used to be so great, y'know? He used to tell all of you when you did a good job of something, when he was proud of you ... "

He felt a lump he couldn't swallow. "No one's perfect, Steve."

"Seemed like your parents were."

Sodapop didn't feel comfortable talking about them, so he decided to change the subject. "So what does your ma say?"

"Ma just stands there, smilin' and makin' cookies."

"An' Maggie?"

"Well, when Dad's drinkin', she just goes up to her room an' stays there. She's too scared to face him and argue back with him. An' _I_ gotta be her dad now."

"You know, Steve, she's sixteen now. Ain't it time for you to let her be?"

Sodapop saw Steve smirk. "If you had a sister, you'd get it."

"What 'bout your uncle? Is he visiting this summer?"

"Yeah. You know he will, he does every damn summer. But I don't know if I'll even see him. Probably be gone by then."

"What do you mean?"

Steve didn't reply, so Sodapop didn't ask anymore questions.

"I just want Dad to like me. I tried to give up before, but it don't work. I tried to hate him as much as I could, tried to spit in his face so many times ... "

"And?"

"It's hard to hate people you still love."

Soda spotted Steve's house and stood up straight. "You're goin' home, Stevie."

"You sure he's gonna be in bed?"

"When does he ever stay up past eleven?"

Steve smiled. "I guess he don't."

They started walking in silence. Tomorrow, Steve probably wouldn't even remember this. If he did, he wouldn't mention it. It was rare when Steve would talk about his father, saying things other than how much he hated him.

"I think Maggie'll be up," Soda said.

"Yeah. That kid never sleeps."

"She ain't that much of a kid."

"She'll always be a kid to me."

Sodapop smiled and thought about Ponyboy. Yeah, Pony would always be a boy, his little kid brother. Just like how Two-Bit always treated his sister like a child.

They finally reached Steve's doorstep.

"You gonna be all right?" Sodapop asked, opening the door for him.

"Yeah."

Sodapop peaked it and found Margaret sleeping on the couch, the television set still on. He turned to Steve.

"Take it easy, all right?"

He nodded and started to walk towards the stairs. Suddenly, he turned around.

"I forgot to mention," he said, his voice filled with bitterness. "I got drafted this mornin'. I'm leaving sometime soon."

And with that, Steve shut the door silently. Sodapop stared at the door, his emotion turning to panic. Steve was being drafted? Why the hell hadn't he told him?

He turned around, running his fingers through his hair, and cursed as loud as he could.


End file.
